


Sugar & Spice

by epeolatry



Series: Halcyon Days [5]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Edible Body Paint, Face-Fucking, Light Bondage, Light daddy kink, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1653371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeolatry/pseuds/epeolatry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bahorel and Feuilly think they're subtle. They aren't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar & Spice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lynchy8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynchy8/gifts).



“Bahorel, what’s that in your hair?”

 

Jehan reached up and plucked a tiny, orange sprinkle from Bahorel’s shaggy Mohawk. Light fingers carded through his hair and a miniature cascade of rainbow sprinkles scattered onto the table in front of him, a few landing in his pint. Feuilly was suddenly very focussed on his own drink.

 

“They’re… uh, hundreds and thousands,” answered Bahorel gruffly.

 

“I love it!” exclaimed Jehan, “That’s such a good idea! Is that what you’re doing for Pride next weekend?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Bahorel seized upon the lie. Unfortunately one of the contributory factors to his dropping out of a law degree had been the simple fact that he was a terrible liar.

 

Montparnasse grinned dangerously, sniffing out the untruth like an animal scenting fear, “Gee Bahorel, what’s that on your neck?”

 

Bahorel’s head whipped stupidly around in an attempt to see his own neck while Feuilly slumped further down in his seat as if trying to slide fully under the table.

 

“It looks like a hickey!” crowed Grantaire, “Wait, hold on…” the artist raised a finger to the brown splodge under Bahorel’s ear, “Is that- ”

 

“Paint!” interjected Feuilly with absolutely no note of panic in his voice, “It’s paint, I was painting! It’s paint.”

 

“I’d better go clean it off,” Bahorel stood awkwardly, “Feuilly, you’ve got that, uh, _paint thinner_ in your bag, right?”

 

“What? Oh right,” Feuilly grabbed his bag, “ _Paint thinner_ , yeah. I’ll come with you.”

 

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” drawled Montparnasse with a smirk as they hurried in the direction of the pub toilets.

 

“Chocolate body paint, how much more cliché can you get?” laughed Grantaire, grabbing Bahorel’s pint and downing the remnants, sprinkles and all.

 

“You think so?” mused Jehan, “It looked more like Nutella to me. I can’t imagine those two being organised enough to go out and actually buy something as specialised as edible body paint.”

 

Grantaire looked horrified, “Those fuckers bought Nutella and didn’t share? I haven’t been able to afford that shit for six months, I’ve been going through withdrawal! Selfish bastards.”

 

“There, there,” muttered Montparnasse snidely as Grantaire consoled himself with Feuilly’s pint and Jehan began arranging the hundreds and thousands on the table into colour groupings.

 

**

 

“Cunt,” growled Bahorel accusingly as soon as the bathroom door banged shut, “You said you got it all off last night!”

 

“Well unfortunately the tongue isn’t a precision tool,” sniggered Feuilly, “Why didn’t you just shower this morning?”

 

“Because I slept in,” grumbled Bahorel sulkily.

 

“Right, I can see now how that’s my fault,” scoffed Feuilly triumphantly, “Now stay still and let me clean it off.” He wet a bit of toilet paper and Bahorel grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

 

“Nuh uh,” Bahorel grinned, “I want you to use your mouth, like last night.”

 

Feuilly pulled a face, “Gross. No way.”

 

Bahorel grabbed Feuilly and pulled him into his neck, “Lick it!” he commanded laughingly as Feuilly struggled against his strong arms.

 

“Fuck you!” spat the redhead, managing to wriggle one arm out of Bahorel’s grasp and jab his knuckles under the larger man’s ribs, winding him enough to release his squirming captive. Feuilly grabbed one of Bahorel’s arms and twisted it up behind his back before slamming him down over the basin, his huge body bent at the hips and his hair falling lankly into the water of a half-filled sink.

 

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” growled Feuilly, holding his friend down, “You can either be an adult about this and clean yourself up, or you can be a fucking child and make me hold you down while I do it. What’s it gonna be?”

 

“Ooh Daddy, hold me down, I love it when you get so forceful!” Bahorel sniggered, earning himself a kick in the shins.

 

“Like a fucking child it is then,” nodded Feuilly resignedly, because really, he hadn’t been expecting anything else. He yanked the scarf from around his neck and swiftly bound Bahorel’s hands behind his back, despite the larger man’s protestations.

 

“Now stand up.”

 

“No.”  


Feuilly sighed, “Bahorel. _Stand up_.”

 

“Shan’t,” grinned the dark haired man cheekily.

 

“Stand up, or so help me I’ll put you on the floor!”

 

Bahorel allowed himself to slide bonelessly off the basin and end up kneeling on the bathroom floor.

 

“You twat,” groaned Feuilly in exasperation, “Fine, it’s easier to reach your neck when you’re on your knees anyway.”

 

“Oh yes Daddy, put me on my knees, I love being on my knees for you!” Bahorel teased in a high pitched voice.

 

At that moment the bathroom door banged open and both heads turned to see an ex-colleague of Feuilly’s standing there, staring at them open-mouthed.

 

“It’s not what it looks like!” yelped Feuilly, but the man merely shook his head disbelievingly and backed out the door, seemingly unable to deal with what he had just walked in on.

 

“You fucker!” growled Feuilly as Bahorel roared with laughter, “You… Alright, that’s it! Now you’re gonna get it.” He grabbed Bahorel by the hair and hauled him into the privacy of a toilet cubicle. Bahorel licked his lips as he found himself face to face with Feuilly’s crotch and turned lascivious eyes up to his friend.

 

“Head in the toilet, now,” ordered Feuilly darkly, “If you won’t act reasonably about cleaning that stuff off I’m going to have to take drastic measures.”

 

Bahorel’s eyebrows shot up and his smouldering eyes turned apprehensive, “…Seriously?”

 

“Seriously,” Feuilly glared.

 

Feuilly continued to glare until Bahorel dropped his eyes and began to lower his head towards the toilet bowl; he’d never had this happen to him as a schoolboy, never even knew that it went on anywhere other than in cheesy American high school films, but he prepared himself for the worst. Just as he squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his lips together Feuilly yanked him back up by the hair.

 

“Of course I wasn’t serious, you prat,” Feuilly chuckled, appeased by Bahorel’s show of willingness to follow through on the punishment.

 

“I knew you weren’t,” Bahorel tried flippantly, making Feuilly laugh.

 

“Like hell you did! You were completely going to let me do it!”

 

“So what if I was?” sulked Bahorel, “Not like I had much choice with my hands tied. Prick.”

 

“Sore loser.”

 

“Ginger freak!”

 

“Cocksucker.”

 

“One of the best,” Bahorel grinned; the evening could yet be salvaged.

 

“Down boy,” Feuilly petted his head patronisingly.

 

Bahorel pouted and Feuilly immediately relented. Really, they had both known from the beginning that he would. The redhead unzipped his fly and pulled his cock out without bothering to lower his trousers; Bahorel would never admit it but the cursory indifference of that act made his own cock begin to stir.

 

Still restrained, Bahorel allowed Feuilly to guide him forwards until he could wrap his lips around the still soft flesh, making Feuilly groan quietly as he began to suck. Bahorel groaned himself as he felt Feuilly grow and harden in his mouth, the sensation heady as he licked and sucked more urgently, suddenly desperate to taste Feuilly properly.

 

Feuilly’s hips twitched and Bahorel tried to beg with his eyes for more but Feuilly’s head was tipped backwards, leaning against the cubicle wall with his eyes screwed shut and his breath coming in short pants. Bahorel gave a muffled growl around the cock in his mouth and Feuilly’s attention snapped downward, his eyes dark and wanting as he watched Bahorel slide up and down his solid length. One callused hand twisted in Bahorel’s hair and began to tug him along, pressing him down further every time until Feuilly was whimpering with his cock buried almost fully in Bahorel’s throat.

 

“Fuck, yes…” Feuilly hissed, beginning to buck his hips into Bahorel’s mouth as the other moaned encouragingly around him, his thrusts hard enough to draw tears into Bahorel’s eyes; Bahorel loved every painful, humiliating second of it. Much too soon Feuilly’s moans grew more erratic, his grip in Bahorel’s hair painfully tight, and with a grunt and a shudder he was coming as Bahorel swallowed him down, his cock still lodged in the darker man’s throat.

 

He held Bahorel to him, nose pressed deeply in ginger curls at the base of his cock, until the other man’s throat started to spasm and despite his best efforts to stay put he began to choke. Feuilly let him pull away before slumping down the wall to join Bahorel on the floor.

 

Bahorel whined low in his throat and Feuilly cracked one eye open to see the larger man still kneeling, and with a large bulge at the front of his trousers.

 

“That was great,” smiled Feuilly lazily, “You’re getting good at sucking dick. I think you’re forgiven.” He snatched a piece of toilet paper from the roll above his head and finally wiped the smudge of chocolate off Bahorel’s neck before standing, stretching, and tucking his cock back into his jeans.

 

“Come on man,” Bahorel growled and Feuilly chuckled.

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“What?”

 

Feuilly manhandled Bahorel back onto his feet then slid the bolt on the door and stepped back out into the bathroom.

 

“You’ve been enough trouble to me already, so you can sort yourself out. See you back at the table.”

 

Bahorel’s wordless exclamation of shocked fury was cut off as the bathroom door banged shut in his face and Feuilly strode back to their friends, triumphant and sated. The fact that he would pay for his cruelty later on did nothing to ruin his good mood, rather, it enhanced it.

**Author's Note:**

> Written aggesss ago for Lynchy8 and never published for reasons that escape me...


End file.
